


Power and Control

by TheSlytherinWhoLived



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Male!Hermione, Platonic BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 13:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinWhoLived/pseuds/TheSlytherinWhoLived
Summary: Pansy Parkinson's day was going from bad to worse. That was until she encountered a charming Gryffindor boy with the surname of Granger. Parkinson treated Granger in the most brutal way he could take, but take it he did. /Male!Hermione / nsfw / bdsm





	

**Author's Note:**

> At the beginning I'd like to say that it's the first time I wrote such story and I really hope it's not tragic. Also, I'm not good at tagging here so I hope I tagged it well. In this universe Hermione is a boy but the rest of characters is the same.

This day was nothing but terrible for one Pansy Parkinson and it wasn’t even midday. First of all, she overslept and was late for her Herbology class with Hufflepuff. Professor Sprout wasn’t happy with her, and took fifteen points from Slytherin house for that, but fortunately, the woman allowed her to take the test they had during the lesson.

But then it got worse.

After Herbology they had double Potions with Gryffindor. It also didn’t work out too well because she was tired and couldn’t focus. The result was that she ruined her potion. One more time in  _ two  _ days. She was furious. Not only Harry  _ Bloody  _ Potter was better than her  _ again  _ (and it was worth mentioning that this boy had no idea how to brew a good potion at all. If it wasn’t for his friend Granger, he would fail terribly) but also Professor Slughorn dared to announce that she wasn’t as great as her older brother and he was disappointed in her.

It would’ve hurt less if the old wizard had just smacked her across the face.

It was humiliating and it pained her not to tell the man what she thought about him. The truth was that she didn’t tell him only because her best-friend Daphne Greengrass used Silencio on her.

But the worst was still ahead of her.

Once the Potions class was over they had a lunch break, and after lunch they had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. As much as Pansy hated to admit it, she respected the woman (and was also slightly terrified of her) as she was really good at her job.

Because it was a really terrible day for her, Pansy was paired with none other than Ronald Weasley, a Gryffindor and along with Granger, the best-friend of Harry Potter. The boy, of course, was bold enough to say that she was a walking potion-brewing disaster.

Something snapped in her, and before anyone could react, she cursed the red-haired wizard.

“Miss Parkinson!” bellowed the aging witch.

Saying that Professor McGonagall was mad would be the understatement of the century. She was furious and so was Pansy.

“This dirty blood traitor deserved it!” spat the young Slytherin girl.

“You just earned yourself a month of detention with Mr. Filch, Miss Parkinson, and fifty points will be taken from Slytherin house! And you can be sure that Professor Snape _will_ be informed about such disrespectful behaviour!” started the woman, who then turned towards The-Boy-Who-Lived. “Mr. Potter, please take Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing.”

Pansy was about to say something, something nasty of course, but before she had a chance, Daphne silenced her again. She looked at her and if she was a basilisk, her room-mate would be dead now. How dare she to do it for her?

“It’s for your own good, Pansy, I promise,” the girl whispered to her and then returned to taking notes as if nothing happened. “If you said what you intended to say, she would give you detention for the rest of the year.”

The young Slytherin witch just crossed her arms and scoffed, or rather wanted to scoff. She had a different opinion on this matter.

“Daphne’s right, you know?” Granger, who was paired with the Greengrass girl, said offhandedly. The girl looked at the Gryffindor student and rolled her eyes when their eyes met. She couldn’t look into these big, brown eyes when they were looking at her like that.

“I hate you, Granger,” she said. Or rather her lips formed such sentence because no sound left Pansy Parkinson’s mouth.  
  
  


***  
  
  


“Don’t worry, lad, Madam Pomfrey will help you in a minute,” said a brown-haired boy as he entered the castle. He was giving a piggyback ride to a first-year Hufflepuff student who had fell from his broomstick during his first flying class and unfortunately broke his leg.

“Really?” asked the child, sniffing. It was obvious, seeing his reaction, that he was a muggle-born wizard. Magic was still new for him.

“Yeah, really, pinky-swear!” he answered, nodding. “You don’t even want to know how many times she had to put me and my friends back into one piece. She even wanted to give my friend Harry a special bed in the hospital wing. You know, because he visited her more than anyone else!”

The boy’s eyes widened, however, his interlocutor couldn’t see it.

“Wow…” replied the young Hufflepuff.

“I know, pretty impressive, huh?” started the Gryffindor student with amusement. “Also, don’t worry about the fall. My other friend, Neville, also fell from his broomstick during our first flying lesson. And he got better. Well, he’s not good enough to be a quidditch star, but he is still incredible in my humble opinion.”

The young lad said nothing just sniffed again. His leg hurt him, but he decided to trust the older boy that the school matron would be able to help him as soon as possible.

They turned down another corridor and a moment later they came across a group of sixth year Slytherin girls. The brown-haired boy looked in their direction, raising his lips in a small smile. However, when his eyes met Pansy’s, he stopped.

The Parkinson girl frowned, while all her friends looked at him, then at Pansy and then back at him.

“Good hex, Pansy,” the Gryffindor boy said and a smile never left his lips. “Ron deserved what he got because sometimes he doesn’t know when he should keep his mouth shut.”

His year-mates, minus the raven-haired girl, snickered at his words.

“How fond of you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “As if your words matter. Besides, weren’t you the one who said that Daphne was right when she silenced me?”

“Nice as always,” the boy answered, readjusting the young Hufflepuff on his back. Nevertheless, the smile was still present on his mouth. “And yes, I was. I still think that she did the right thing. You don’t want to deal with a pissed off McGonagall. Trust me. However, I also believe that she was too strict with you. Anyway, I should take this boy to the hospital wing as I promised Madame Hooch. Have a nice afternoon, ladies, and see you at dinner.”

After saying this, he slightly bowed before them and before they had a chance to answer, he resumed his journey. However, when he turned into the last corridor before his destination, he almost bumped into something, or rather he almost bumped into someone.

“Wotcher, kiddo!” said a female voice.

“For Merlin’s sake, Tonks, don’t scare people like that!” the brown-haired boy said because he almost dropped his companion. The young woman who had pink hair only smiled. She was dressed in aurors robes as she was one of the aurors who were at Hogwarts as additional security.

“No promises,” she said. “Where are you going?”

“Hospital wing,” the young Gryffindor said. “I was crossing by when Madame Hooch was teaching first-years and I promised her I’d take the boy to Madam Pomfrey. He broke his leg.”

“First lesson, huh?” The woman asked the little Hufflepuff. He nodded shyly. “Yeah, same happened to me. My bum hurt me for days! I’m Tonks, by the way,” she added and gave him her hand to shake.

“Tonks?” the child asked, frowning, however, he accepted her hand. “I’m Michael.”

“It’s her last name,” the older student answered before the woman had a chance. “But she hates her name so if you don’t want her to hex you into another universe, don’t ask her about it. And if you somehow happen to find it out, never use it in her presence.”

“Well said, brother of mine. I wouldn’t say it better.”

The Gryffindor only rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, can you please inform Professor Sprout about it?”

“Sure thing,” Tonks grinned and changed her hair colour from pink to green. “I was a Hufflepuff myself, you know? Great house, Hufflepuff, and don’t believe my brother when he says that Gryffindor is better. They’re losers. Anyway, what’s your surname, dear?”

“Daniells, Michael Daniells, the first-year said, afraid, seeing that her hair changed. How was it even possible?

“Ok, then I’ll go to inform her. Behave, kiddo, or mum will send you a howler,” she winked towards the older boy and went to find her former Head of House.

The older wizard said nothing, just shook his head and resumed his trip to the hospital wing. Again.

“She’s your sister?” the Hufflepuff boy asked before he could bite his tongue. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask but you have different surname. I didn’t think that she could change it.”

“No need to be sorry, Michael,” he chuckled. “And yes, Tonks is my sister. Her parents adopted me when I was about your age.”

“And her hair? How was she able to change it without using a wand?” asked Michael.

“She’s a Metamorphmagus. It means that she can change her appearance without using a wand or a potion. It’s a very rare gift and she’s the only Metamorphmagus in the century.” the Gryffindor responded.

“Wicked!” piped the Hufflepuff.

“I know,” he grinned and opened the door to the hospital wing. When they found themselves inside, the Gryffindor put the boy on the bed. “Madam Pomfrey! One of your favourite students is here!” he called, knowing that the woman was in her office, and winked towards Michael.

“For Merlin’s sake, I swear that if you or your friends broke something _again_ , I’m going to keep you here forever!” grumbled the woman.

“See? I told you that we’re here often,” the wizard said to his interlocutor, grinning.

“What have you done this time, Mr. Granger?” asked the woman entering the room.

“What have _I_ done, Madam Pomfrey? You know that I’m unable to do anything wrong!” he started and then pointed at his young friend before the school matron could say anything. “This young gentleman broke his leg when he fell from his broomstick. I just promised Madame Hooch to bring him here. I missed you, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Out!” said the witch and wagged her finger at him. “I don’t want to see you or your friends in this room _at least_ to the end of the term. Understood?”

“Of course, although your cruel words hurt my heart, Madam Pomfrey,” he said with amusement and excused himself from the room, grinning like a madman, because the woman raised her hand. “Good afternoon, Madam Pomfrey. See you later, Michael. You’re in good hands, I promise!”

The Gryffindor left the hospital wing and went towards the Great Hall as dinner was going to start soon. He was aware that his friends were going to be there because they were with him when he offered to take Michael to the hospital wing.

And he was right.

As soon as he crossed the door of the Great Hall, he saw his two best-friends. Harry and Ron waved at him as soon as they saw him and made him place between them.

“How is the boy?” asked Granger’s troublesome friends.

“Good…I think,” he started. “Madam Pomfrey kicked me from the hospital wing as soon as I explained what happened. Oh, and she doesn’t want to see us there in this term. I think she blames you, Ron,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, it was not my fault that Parkinson cursed me!” Ron exclaimed, a little too loudly.

“Well, actually, it was your fault,” said Harry, who improved his glasses. “You shouldn’t mock her, but at least she got what she deserved. A month with Filch will sort her out.”

The Granger boy said nothing, just poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice and started drinking it, carefully looking towards the Slytherin table where said girl sat among her friends. He knew that she was mad, he could sense it even from here. He didn’t want, however, to tell his friends that they were wrong.

A while later the Great Hall was full of people and dinner started. The young Gryffindor was in the middle of eating his toast when suddenly and owl landed in front of him. He was aware that his friends and house-mates were looking at him because it was rare to receive a letter during dinner. They usually came during lunch.

The boy took an envelope from the animal and gave it a bit of his toast. The owl accepted it gracefully and flew away a moment later. He opened the envelope.

Inside was a short note.

_ Granger, _

_ Room of Requirement. 7:30. Today. You’d better not be late. _

It wasn’t signed but he knew very well who sent it to him. Once Potions class was over, he had a feeling that he would receive a similar note and he was right.

“Well?” questioned Harry.

Hearing Harry’s voice, he turned to face his friend and set the note on fire.

“Well, what?” he asked innocently as he knew more than well what his friend wanted to ask.

“Who sent you a note and what they want from you? Do you need our help?”

The brown-haired teenager raised his lips in a small smile as the note was already burnt. There was no proof so he could tell them what he wanted.

“It was from Professor Snape. He still gives me private lessons even if he’s the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher now. He wants me to meet him today so we can talk about my schedule.” he lied. He couldn’t tell his friends the truth and he knew that hearing Snape’s name they won’t bother him anymore.  
  
  


__ ***  
  
  


Pansy Parkinson was sitting on a wooden desk in the Room of Requirement, with her legs crossed. She was tapping the desk at a steady pace with her perfect nails, waiting. Waiting for the arrival of her guest. There was still time, however, she preferred to be here before him because she knew that it would be suspicious if someone saw them together. Entering the room.

She shuddered. She didn’t want to think about the consequences if someone spotted her with him. With Granger.

She didn’t have to wait long because when the clock struck 7:30 p.m. the door opened and no one other but the devil himself entered the room.

The boy was wearing black robes and his medium-length brown hair was pinned back in a precisely placed ponytail. As always.

“Perfect timing,” she said as soon as the door closed behind him. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re always on time.”

“I believe that it’s disrespectful to keep ladies waiting.” Came the answer and the Gryffindor student moved into the middle of the room, or rather into the middle of the dungeon.

“Ah, it is disrespectful, isn’t it?” the girl said, emerging from the shadows, and went to face her interlocutor. He was looking at her calmly. He always did. Sometimes she wondered how he could be so calm… she probably never saw him losing control.

Pansy clenched her fist on his tie and pulled him to herself as he was taller than she was.

“I really hate your friends, Granger,” she whispered into his ear. “They annoy me. Weasley in particular. Keep him away from me or the next time Pomfrey will have to put in much more effort to put him back together.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked, raising his lips a bit. Pansy chuckled grimly.

“No. It’s a promise,” she stated and went to sit on the desk again. “And now take off your robes. You’re going to pay for Weasley’s foul mouth.”

Her interlocutor said nothing, and obediently began to pull off his clothes. Pansy, who was watching him, raised her lips in a smirk because a moment later the boy stood in the middle of room wearing only black trousers.

“Come here,” she ordered, and the young Gryffindor, without a word, did as he was told. “On your knees.”

The girl watched, amused, as the wizard knelt before her. She loved it because in this room she always was the one in control and he was obligated to do what she wanted. And she wanted to have some fun after such a horrible day.

“Give me your hands,” she said and when he did it, she fastened him in chains, smirking devilishly. “How does it feel being in chains, hm? Does little mudblood like it?”

“I like it as long as you like it, Mistress.” Granger replied stoically.

_ Mistress. _

Pansy loved it when he referred to her like that, especially while using this tone. The tone of the total submission. To her. Merlin’s beard. She was aware that the other girls would like to be in her place. And that thought was making her feel better. Because she was the one who brought the famous Granger to his knees.

The teenager got up from her place, holding chains in her hands, and dragged the boy with her. He was still quiet. In this room she was the boss and he was here only to serve her. No matter how wrong it sounded.

“Perfect,” she whispered into Granger’s ear, once he was pinned to the ceiling, and put her hand on his naked back. “Just perfect.”

She started pacing around her partner, dangerous sparks were visible in her eyes and she was looking at him like a predator looks at its prey.

The wizard was many things. He was the best student in school, by many called “The Brightest Wizard of His Age”. He was the teacher’s favourite. Even Professor Snape was fond of him which was incredible taking into account that he was a  _ Gryffindor _ . Granger was one of the the best-friends of Harry Potter, he was a Chaser of Gryffindor Quidditch team, a prefect. He was also very charismatic, helpful and, of course, handsome. But what made him extremely famous among female population of students (and caused a great deal of jealousy with his male peers, even Slytherins), was the fact that the wizard seemed to know what the girls wanted, as if reading their minds. He was even called, although Pansy doubted that he was aware of it, “The Gentleman of Hogwarts”.

Did she have a crush on him? Yes. She had a crush on him. In fact, according to her, he was more handsome than Draco and that was saying something. But there was one thing which eliminated him from admitting even to her best-friend Daphne that she found him appealing.

His blood status.

There were a lot of girls who were in love with him (she knew for sure that Lavender Brown and the Patil twins had crush on him, too. Even her room-mate Tracey admitted that in her opinion he was handsome). He could be a perfect boyfriend, a perfect husband, even a perfect lover, however, he was a muggle-born. A  _ mudblood _ . And because of that she would  _ never  _ be with him. Her family wouldn’t accept him and she didn’t want to be disowned. Even he wasn’t worth it.

“I hope you like pain, mudblood,” she said and touched his belly, nearly a nasty scar he had, with a riding crop which she just conjured up. “Because I’m going to hurt you.”

“As you wish… Mistress.” was the response the Gryffindor boy gave.

Pansy smirked and went to stand behind him. Then she put the crop on his back, patting it gently before she delivered the first of many smacks.

The wizard stood still.

The young witch raised her hand again, again and again, hitting him at a steady pace. It wasn’t the first time she pinned him to the ceiling and used the crop on him. No. Of course it wasn’t. They had done it before.

How did it even happen?

Well, to be honest she had no idea. It all started during their fourth year. Granger stopped her one day from cursing a first-year student. She was in a nasty mood, so he offered to let her take her anger out on him. At first she thought that he was joking. After all it wasn’t a normal offer, nevertheless, the boy was honest. So she cursed him instead of the child. Once everything was over, he told her to summon him every time she wished to curse someone. And she did. But the last year something happened, probably because of Umbridge, and instead of using magic on him, she started to whip him. She still has no idea how it happened, but it happened. And the Gryffindor never… he never complained about it or said that he didn’t want it. He was just there, offering what she wanted.

Pansy looked at his back. It was red, however, he wasn’t marked. She never hit him hard enough to mark him because she didn’t want his friends to accidentally see his back when he was changing. It would be too suspicious. She decided to hit him five more times. And these five last strokes were the hardest.

But her interlocutor, as always, said nothing.

“We’re not done, mudblood,” she said, pulling his hair, then unclipping him. “On your knees and put your hands on your head. I want you to kneel like the obedient mudblood you are. If you move, I’ll crucio you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” said the boy docilely and did as he was told. He knew more than well that the girl wouldn’t use the curse on him but even if… well, the rules were rules and he agreed on it a long time ago.

Pansy nodded her head haughtily and once again went to sit down on the desk. She was aware that her partner knew that she wouldn’t put him under the pain of the Cruciatus Curse. Yes… she was a Slytherin, she was a pure-blood witch and she was prejudiced, however, she wouldn’t be able to use the curse on him. No. She liked him even if she refused to say it aloud.

“Come here,” she finally said fifteen minutes later.

The Gryffindor student got up and approached her. Then he knelt before her again, knowing well that it was what he was supposed to do.

“Give me your hands,” she ordered him and a moment later chained his hands again. Then she forced him to get up and bend over the desk, and with a little help of magic, she tied him to it.

The Parkinson girl clenched her hands on his hair and made him to look at her. As always, his big, brown eyes were looking at her with such understanding. She had no idea how it was even possible.

“We’re almost done, _pet_ ,” she muttered into his ear. “And if I were you I’d be a good dog or else your punishment will take even longer.”

And then she pushed his head away and went to stand behind him.

Pansy knew that the Gryffindor knew what was before him. She didn’t have to tell him because he was more than aware. They always finished their meetings in such a way.

The girl moved her hands towards his waist and then started unbuckling his belt. A moment later she had it in her hand, and with a quick move, she lowered his trousers to his ankles.

She threw the thing on the desk and then put her hand on his bottom. It wasn’t naked as he still has a black boxer shorts on.  _ Yet _ , was what she thought.

“Be a good boy,” she said as she patted his bum. “If you don’t, I will hurt you more.”

She raised her hand for the very first time and a few second later a loud smack reverberated around the room.

Pansy’s heart jumped with excitement when she hit him. She had no idea why but it always made her excited when he was in such a position. He could be so submissive at times and she loved it.

SMACK! Her hand met his ass again. She wasn’t sure which time it was, but she knew she couldn’t have hit him more than fifteen times so far.

Granger’s submission was really appealing. She was a member of one of the oldest pure-blood families and corporal punishments were nothing surprising for her.

SMACK!

However, in such families men were responsible for discipline. They were even allowed to punish their wives if in their opinion they didn’t act as they should have.

SMACK!

She wasn’t sure if her father ever punished her mother in the past (she knew for sure that he didn’t hit her for at least seventeen years), but she knew for sure that her brother spanked his wife.

SMACK!

She accidentally saw it when she was younger and it scared her. She was spanked a few times in the past, probably as every child is, by her father (and once by her brother when he was in charge when their parents were out of the country) and it was normal to her but she couldn’t imagine being punished by her husband. It was… no.

SMACK!

She really didn’t know how many times she smacked Granger’s bottom but she could tell it was warm so she decided to move on to the last part. She put her hands around his waist and second later his black boxer shorts joined his trousers.

Pansy once again patted his arse. It was beautiful, naked, slightly red and very exposed right now. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was horny. The boy was driving her crazy, especially in such a position. Why the hell did he have to be a mudblood?

She was a girl, and straight, so it was obvious that she was attracted to boys. She even used to, from time to time to talk with her friends about boys. Sometimes in the dormitory she and her room-mates talked about Granger. He was out of their league because of his blood status, obviously, but they enjoyed talking about him. She even could recall one specific conversation with her friends about him. It was when Tracey confessed that she had a crush on him and said that she wondered if he had a big dick.

He did. Pansy could confirm it. She saw his cock a few times.

Not that she ever told anyone about it. First of all, he was a  _ mudblood  _ and a  _ Gryffindor  _ and she was a  _ pure-blood  _ and a  _ Slytherin,  _ but also because their agreement said that what happened in the Room of Requirement stayed in the Room of Requirement.

“You’re going to receive twenty strokes with the belt now,” she said and took his belt from the desk. “I want you to count it. If you make a mistake, I’ll start over. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Granger responded.

Pansy smirked and nodded and put the belt in the half. She raised her hand and…

SMACK! The belt met Granger’s bare bottom for the very first time.

“One, Mistress,” was the answer.

She raised her hand again, watching with fascination as the belt met his ass.

“Two, Mistress,” he counted.

She was raising her hand in a steady pace and the wizard was counting it like the good boy she ordered him to be. Pansy had to admit that she was impressed, as always. The boy was taking everything so calmly and with understanding that for a moment she thought that he knew that she enjoyed doing this. But Sweet Merlin… have you seen his perfect ass? If only her room-mates and other girls knew about their meetings (and also about his dick) then they would murder her to be in her place.

“Sixteen, Mistress.” the boy continued to count.

She wasn’t going to lie. She always was making him count because she knew she could be lost in thought and she didn’t want to hit him more than she promised. It would make her look bad.

“Twenty, Mistress.” he counted, without a hint of pain in his voice.

Hearing the number, Pansy put the belt back on the desk and looked at his bottom. It was red now and to be honest, it made her even more aroused. The girl took out her wand and with one wave the chains were gone.

“You can get dressed,” she said.

Her companion said nothing, just raised his lips in a small smile and pulled up his underwear and trousers.

“You know what, Pansy? I think I’ll have to talk with Ron,” the young Gryffindor started while fastening the belt.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He still was half naked because he didn’t have his shirt on (and she didn’t mind it. She liked to look at his muscular abdomen).

“And why is that?” the black haired girl asked.

“Because with every meeting you’re becoming crueller,” he started seriously but a moment later he chuckled and walked towards her and whispered seductively into her ear. “Just kidding. Quite the opposite, actually. I’m afraid you’re losing your touch.”

The young witch made a face as if she was mortally offended and smacked him in the arm. That made him chuckle even more.

“Remind me, how it’s possible that you’re the most talented student in school?” Pansy probed.

The Granger boy said nothing, just laughed again and licked his lips. Damn. How much she wanted to taste them.

“I have no idea,” he finally said. “But now I think we should go, unless we want our friends to be suspicious. And believe me, they will think that Snape killed me in his office.”

“Snape? You told them you’re going to visit Snape?” answered Pansy, with a tone of confusion.

“Yes. I did. You’re quite similar if I have to be honest. You’re both Slytherins and have black hair.” chuckled Granger.

“I beg your pardon, my hair is always clean!” she said, although a note of amusement was hidden in her voice.

The boy laughed again.

“Yes, it is. Now, shall we go?” Granger said.  
  
  


***  
  
  


The next morning Pansy entered the Great Hall along with her room-mates. It was almost empty as breakfast had only just started. When she returned to the dormitory after her meeting with a Gryffindor, she didn’t mention what happened in the Room of Requirement between her and Granger. She never did. In fact her friends didn’t even know that she was with him.

And speaking of Granger…

The boy was already in the Great Hall, talking happily with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott (and the young student whom he carried to the hospital wing). He was so cheerful and relaxed that if Pansy wasn’t with him the previous evening, she would never guess that his back and bottom hurt him. However, as soon as she saw him with other girls, something turned in her stomach.

“Hello, Pansy, ladies,” she heard his voice above her a few moments later. The wizard walked towards the Slytherin table (at this moment it was occupied only by her and her friends) as soon as he saw that they arrived.

“Granger,” she said shortly. She almost always treated him coldly when they weren’t alone. “What are you doing here and why are you ruining my day?”

“I had a conversation with Professor McGonagall. She asked me to inform you that you won’t have detention if you write her a ten page long essay about the three previous lessons. You have two days to do it. If you fail, you’ll serve detention with Filch.”

“Two days?!” she asked, shocked. Her friends weren’t surprised that she reacted like that because they all knew that Transfiguration wasn’t her favourite subject and she had some problems with it. “Is she completely mad?!”

The boy only shrugged.

“Maybe, who knows? But don’t worry. I’ll help you and will be your tutor.” said the chocolate haired Gryffindor, grinning.

Pansy snickered.

“And what else? I won’t spend two days alone with a _mudblood_ ,” she barked. Her interlocutor, on the other hand, just smirked. He knew it was just a game.

“I’m afraid I didn’t make myself clear,” the boy started, put his hands on the table and then leaned towards Pansy who sat just in front of him. He was aware that his Slytherin class-mates were looking at him but didn’t say anything as they wanted to know what he was about to say. “Professor McGonagall _made me_ your tutor. She expects me to help _you_ and I’ll share the same grade as you for it. And I _won’t_ accept anything less than Outstanding. Did I make myself clear?”

Pansy raised her head to meet his eyes and almost smirked seeing domination in them. If she had to be honest, she liked to see him dominant almost as much as she loved to see him submissive. It was making him look hot.

“I hate you, Granger.” Pansy retorted venomously.

“I don’t expect you to like me. I expect you to write a perfect essay,” he said with a shrug and then turned on his heel. “Meet me today in the Room of Requirement, 7:30, don’t you dare keep me waiting.”

And with that he went to join his friends who just entered the Great Hall.

“What?!” Pansy snapped when she heard her room-mates chuckling.

“Oh, nothing, Pansy, nothing,” started Daphne. Dangerous sparks were visible in her eyes. “Just be a good girl, or else _Professor Granger_ will take you over his knees.”

“What the hell, Daphne?” seethed the dark-haired Slytherin girl.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being over his knees,” said Tracey and looked towards Granger who was talking with Ron and Lavender Brown. “He’s so hot and sweet.”

The girl had no idea why, but suddenly she felt hot.

“He’s a mudblood, Tracey. A _mudblood!_ ”

“You don’t know that,” this time it was Millicent Bulstrode’s turn to speak. “He was raised in a muggle orphanage before he started Hogwarts. Who knows, maybe his parents, or at least one of them, were wizards?”

“Still, I have no idea why you fantasise about being spanked by him.” Pansy grumbled.

“Well, he’s cute.” Daphne responded.

“And handsome.” Tracey added.

“And funny.” concluded Millicent.

“You’re weird,” she said to them. Especially since she was the one who spanked him at the first place.

“Well, you have to admit that he’s special, taking into account that even Professor Snape likes him,” started Tracey but lowered her voice because other Slytherins entered the Great Hall and sat down at their table. “He would be a good boyfriend.”

“Yes, you’re right,” said Pansy as it was something she already thought the previous night. However, seeing that her friends smirked, she realised that she had to save her dignity. “He _would be_ a good boyfriend, if he was a pure-blood. But let’s face it. He’s just a _mudblood_.”

And after saying this, she got up and left the Great Hall. But before she did it, she looked over her arm towards the boy who was showing something to Parvati and Lavender. The Gryffindor girls chuckled when they saw it.

_ Damn you, Granger.  _ She thought. Why did he have to be a mudblood? Why couldn’t he be a pure-blood wizard? It would be much easier.

“I’m going mad,” she muttered to herself and headed towards the Charms classroom. “I can’t have a crush on a mudblood.”

However, her heart and body betrayed her. The heart was beating as mad and she felt aroused. When she beat him, she was pretty horny because his body was driving her crazy. Nevertheless, when her friends mentioned that they wouldn’t mind being spanked by him…

Yes. She mentioned that she wouldn’t want to be spanked by her husband because she saw as her brother did it to his wife and… well, it was worth mentioning that her brother was even more prejudiced than Draco and his family (and that was saying something) and he was very strict. He literally broke the hairbrush on her ass when he spanked her this one time their parents were out of the country and she pitied her sister-in-law.

Pansy wouldn’t want to have a husband like her brother. No. She wouldn’t want to. But somehow the idea of being spanked by Granger turned her on and she could feel the thrill throughout her body.

 


End file.
